Tales from the Briccs

By Maurice Kelly

Tales from the Briccs is a collection of short
urban stories that gives one a raw and water resistant
glimpse into real life scenarios that happen in ghettos
all across America. Each story contains one of the perils
that plague the lives of individuals living in the ghetto:
money, sex, violence, gangs and prison; yet they all
have positive messages that are written to entertain and
enlighten a mature audience thats in search of truth
through the art of fiction. Its thrilling, humorous, heart
stopping and destined to make you think twice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 31, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456844790

Maurice Kelly

“Knowledge” was raised in Watts, California. An at-risk youth and true product of his environment, violence earned him a 10-year stint in prison. Refusing to succumb to the negative elements and influences of the prison system he struggled and turned the incarceration into liberation through education and the acquisition of knowledge of self. Albeit Knowledge is still encased within the belly of the penal beast, through experience of being a victim of the mentality of the U.S. Ghetto coupled with his enlightenment thru self-education he continues to remove the psychological chains of degradation through his writings.

Book preview

Copyright © 2011 by Maurice Kelly.

ISBN: Softcover    978-1-4568-4478-3

ISBN: Ebook        978-1-4568-4479-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

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DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to Jenny, Granny Kelly, JoAnn, Trey, Shawn, Abraham, Yolanda, my brother Keno, I love you. Thank you for the unconditional love. Kevin, lets eat big bro, the sky is the limit. Audrey, thanks baby. To everyone struggling, it takes nothing but chutzpah, self-will and the determination to execute your plans and you will rise up out of your circumstances. For knowledge without the act of manifestations is likened to humility without humbleness.

Contents

REALITY CHECK

SHO’ NUFF’S CROSS ROAD

DEAL OR NO DEAL

AM I READY

COINCIDENCE

REALITY CHECK 2: THE RETURN OF ROGER

SHO’ NUFF’S CROSS ROAD 2: THE EMANCIPATION OF THE ULTIMATE GANGSTA

REALITY CHECK

It was a Monday morning and I the magnificent Tyreesha Picson was more than happy to be the first to have my case heard in front of the judge at the Juvenile Justice Center; I was even more excited when I walked into the courtroom and saw my older friend and co-worker Tish in the courtroom posing as my aunt. I’m only fifteen so as a juvenile I needed a parent or guardian present if I were to be released and Tish was right on time.

Friday afternoon I was caught attempting to steal this bomb ass Gucci purse from the Compton Swapmeet, so I had to spend the weekend in a jail cell more stressed about the reaction I would receive from my daddy after I didn’t return home from work on Friday night nor the weekend. Lying about my whereabouts was out of the equation, because I was sure that my scary ass friend Lisa who was with me when I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar had told him what happened after she ran when she saw the store clerk confronting me about my thievery.

The court process was fast. The case was dismissed due to the fact that I hadn’t actually walked out of the store or made any attempts to do so; the store clerk called the police because he observed me transferring items from my old purse into the purse I was going to steal, plus I had money on me. That was like a breath of fresh air because within an hour I was in the car with Tish headed for our hangout spot at the donut shop on Long Beach Boulevard two blocks from the Compton Swapmeet. Tish had to be at work so she was only dropping me off, she did use the timet aht we had to scold me about my ignorant actions of stealing while on my lunch break from a job that paid me money to buy the things that I wanted. I just nodded my head in affirmation while letting the words go in one ear and come out the other. I knew I was stupid, I just spent the weekend in a jail cell kicking my own ass and worried about the ass whipping that I’d get from my daddy when I got home so she coulda missed me with all that talk.

My mother had died when I was thirteen from an overdose on heroine. All of my mothers family were back east and I had never met my father so for the past two years I had lived from pillow to post crashing at some of my so-called friends house until they got tired of feeding me, then I had to roam the streets and find shelter the best way I could up until the day I met my daddy Roger on my 15th birthday.

I’ll never forget the day I met him and how relieved I felt after finally finding the love that I’ve always yearned to have. He showered me with so much love and affection, listened to all my problems and gave great advice and understanding when he thought that it was proper to teach me about the pitfalls of growing up. What else could one ask from a daddy? He immediately moved me in with him; bought me clothes and made sure that I didn’t’ want for too much of anything. He assured me that all of my dreams would come true if I applied the valuable lessons that he was teaching me. So upsetting him was the last thing I wanted to do.

I walked into the donut shop and ordered me a black coffee and a pineapple jelly donut. I then went into the bathroom to wash off some of the jailhouse grime in order to prepare myself to face the only person that showed me real love after the death of my mother.

Staring into the mirror for the first time in three days, tears began to build up in my eyes after I got a glimpse of the sleep huddled up in the corners of my eyes and the dried up saliva on the slide of my face. DAMN I LOOK TERRIBLE was all that I could say to myself as I used wet toilet paper to clean up the mess I had become.

Although I had been through a ruff couple of days, I was still as fine as aged wine; deep brown slightly slanted eyes, high cheekbones, a round smooth baby face; and no pimples or scars on my Hershey’s chocolate skin. My Mentadent white smile alone is so bright that it would have lit up the darkness of Hitler’s heart. Lets not mention my petite figure; firm breast and a round basketball shaped bottom that would turn George W. Bush into the savior of America if I gave him a chance to touch it. So it’s going to take a helluva lot more than a few days in the slammer to bring me down from the height of immaculate beauty.

I stepped out into the morning sun and for the first time that morning, I paid attention to how beautiful the day was. Besides the dark cloud hanging over my head like a halo, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky; the sun was blazing lightly; not yet at its highest peek. There was a cool breeze that blew so soft that I had to stand still for a few seconds to notice it. Birds were chirping and butterflies were swimming through the air, this was beautiful California weather at its finest.

Sitting outside the donut shop was Chess King James and fine ass Michael having a war of the minds on the chessboard. Chess king, James, was know by everyone in the neighborhood for hanging in front of the donut shop playing chess. He as an older man, at about the age of sixty-five who hadn’t spoke a word except if needed for survival reasons since he returned from the war in Vietnam; his usual language was grunts, groans and head nods. But he was always polite and would listen to you pour your heart out all day if you played him in chess. He hadn’t lost a game of chess in twenty-five years but many lined up to play him just for the benefits of him being an emotional outlet. Many had the idea that they would be able to distract him by telling him one of their sob stories then sneak in a win but no one was ever successful. This morning, Michael was one of those hopeful winners who stopped by to play him before he went to work.

The rumor is that Michael is a 20 year old ex gang banging pimp who had a serious reality check about his lifestyle. He went into the house one day with a stone cold mentality and came out the next day a polite, respectful, kindhearted young man. No one, not even his live-in girlfriend knew who, what or why he made the 360 but many were happy for him. A month after his transformation his girlfriend left him because she was deep in the streets and didn’t want him trying to shove his newe found saint-hood down her throat. A few of his shallow friends broke wide for the same reason. In the hood half of the people that know you respect you because they fear you or they seek to gain something from you whether it be materialistic or prestige and the other half respect you because they just got love for you. I don’t give a damn what they say happened I’m feeling him.

After noticing Michael playing chess with King James I had to stop to gather myself. I’d seen him in the neighborhood a few times but I didn’t really know him, however, I was highly attracted to him and got real nervous anytime I was near him because just looking at him made me cream in my panties.

Michael was a sexylicious man standing at 6 feet 2, 190 lbs, with a slim muscular built body, a smooth bald head, a bronze skin tone and Pepsi brown eyes that made many of us hot tamales in the neighborhood tremble in our stilettos.

Although I was highly attracted to Michael I couldn’t entertain the thought of pursuing a relationship with him, because my daddy didn’t allow me to have boyfriends. So I had to enjoly his presence anytime he was around. Sometimes I’d rush home after seeing him to masturbate while his image was still fresh on my mind. Daddy said, that boys were too much of a distraction; I needed to be focused on school or work. I only had to focus on work now because school as now out of the picture. I had to drop out six month ago after I started working full time in order for me to be self sufficient while at the same time helping out my daddy who was 50 years old with one leg and retired from work, so his only income came from his disability check. He lost his leg after being shot in close range with a shotgun by a young jacker; blew his right leg smooth off from under him.

I needed to use the phone to call my daddy and let him know that I was home and where he could come to pick me up. I noticed that Michael had a cell phone on his hip so I took advantage of my chance to be all up in his grill and I calmly approached Chess King James’ foldout chess table, Hi Chess King James. Hi Michael.

King James did as he usually does and grunted with a head nod. Michael on the other hand turned to face me with a curious look o his face, Hey shorty, how are you doing this morning? Damn I’m sorry but I’ve seen you a few times in the neighborhood but I’ve seen you a few times in the neighborhood but I never got the chance to formally meet you, what’s your name?

Oh, I’m Tyreesha. I blushed.

Tyreesha, it’s nice to finally meet you, since you already know my name there’s no need to give that to you. He smiled with an I wanna fuck your brains out look on his face. I loved it.

He was damn right that he didn’t need to tell me his name, I already screamed it ten times while having an orgasm on my fingers is what I wanted to say but I chickened out, I’m sorry to interrupt you guy’s game, but Michael, I wanted to know if I could use your phone for about 30 seconds? I just have to call my daddy and let him know where he can pick me up at.

Michael handed me the phone, Sure go ahead.

I grabbed the phone and made my call. The phone conversation was quick just as I had promised. But when I gave the phone back for some reason I had noticeably sad look on my face which made Michael inquisitive, What’s wrong shorty, a second ago you seemed to be happy, now after a brief phone call you’re looking all sad?

I’m good, no problems. I lied.

Like I just said, a second ago you were smiling, now you look like you just lost your best friend.

You wouldn’t understand it’s kinda crazy.

Well look, I have about 10-15 minutes before the bus comes then I have to go to work, but we can talk about it if you want. You said, your dad would be here to pick you up so lets use the conversation to kill the time while we both wait, Michael suggested.

I put on my sexy voice, Okay, I guess we can do that.

Chess King James, I can’t compete. Let me holla at her, I’ll catch you tomorrow and try my luck, Michael said. King James just grunted.

Okay, tell me what’s so crazy that I wouldn’t understand? Michael asked.

Well, it’s my daddy. I feel like I let him down, hell I let myself down as well. I said looking away from Michael.

What happened? How did you do that?

I got caught stealing a purse while I was on my lunch break, plus I had the money to pay for the purse but I chose to steal it. My daddy hates thieves.

Damn. I can see why you feel like you let yourself down as well as your dad, but you’re young and young people make mistakes. I just hope that you are able to take this as a growing experience and learn the main rule to the stealing game if you don’t already know it.

Yeah, don’t get caught, I responded. And we shared a laugh.

Yeah, exactly. But you don’t have to cry about the situation, the milk has already been spilled. I’m sure that if you tell your dad that you’re sorry for making the senseless mistake and that it will never happen again he will understand. Michael said hoping to ease my mind a bit about facing my daddy, but I knew better.

I shook my head in disagreement. He ain’t going to forgive me, he’s going to stop loving me and treating me like a princess. He hates when I do stupid things.

Naw shorty, your daddy may be mad at you for a second but he will never stop loving you, dads never stop loving their little girls no matter what they do. So pull yourself together, his anger won’t last that long.

My daddy is all that I got. No one has ever loved me the way that he does. I just can’t be without his love and affection. A tear fell from my right eye. I was devastated about my dumb actions.

As we talked, neither of us paid attention to the primer gray 1972 Duce and a Quarter pull into the parking lot behind us. A 5 foot 5 385 pound elderly white man emerge from the driver’s seat wearing a pair of dingy blue one size fits all khaki pants, with an extra small tank top t-shirt that once was the color white, but now it was sweat stained yellow. His over sized stomach hung from the bottom of the tank top like clothes hanging outside of an over stuffed luggage, as well as the fat on his upper body that dangled outside of the shoulder openings of his shirt. His gray Riddell tennis shoes leaned to the side like a country boy from Texas drunk off Codeine and Cranberry Juice. The man looked like a mangy overweight Master Splinter from the Ninja Turtles.

He wobbled with a terrible limp while holding onto his aluminum medical cane gasping for air as he tried his best to walk with a quick paste. Sweat dripped profusely down his face from the open roof of his balding head. His pink skin was a true enemy to the sun; the way his face pealed one would think he was mixed with python from his shedding of skin.

He walked up to Michael and I unnoticed, and socked the shit out of me in the back of my head sending me flying to the ground, You stupid bitch! He spat through a mouth that held about 5 barely surviving rotten teeth. His voice was deep, scratchy and raspy as he continued his verbal assault, your dumb ass never listen when I tell you something.

Michael was just as thrown off by the sudden attack as me, before he could say or do anything the man that was unknown to him had began to stomp me while I was on the ground and then hit me with his cane while simultaneously cursing at me like a drunken sailor. The only thing I could do was ball up in the fetal position in order to protect myself from the blows.

Michael gathered himself mentally after taking in what was going on; cocked his arm back and fired a thunderous punch into the face of Master Splinter, sending one of his teeth flying one way and his body flying the other. What in the hell is wrong with you coming over here putting your hands on this sister like that. Michael barked before kicking the man twice in the stomach; almost falling over on the second kick from his leg bouncing back off of the man’s stomach with such high velocity.

After collecting himself Michael, helped me to my feet. Chess King James sat there quietly watching the scene like it was an Oscar winning movie. The patrons and employees from the donut shop began to huddle outside the shop to get front row seats to the action.

The man held his jaw while laying on his back shaking the birds off that were flying in front of his eyes spoke in pain, What the hell wrong with you getting in da middle of my bidness like that youngsta, dat’s my bitch you trying to protect.

Michael kicked him two more times. Don’t be disrespecting this sister like that you cracker. He then bent down to punch the man but I grabbed a hold of him, You don’t have to hit him anymore—it’s okay h-

Michael cut me off, "Hell naw it ain’t okay. This asshole done came over here and put his hands on you. He out of line! When your dad gets here I know he’s gonna want to kill